Sparkle

I am always for expressions.
It helps us explain our thoughts in a profound manner. No matter how bookish it may sound, but as per reality expressions are the sole reason that identifies us with life. It identifies happiness, anger, sadness and love….
She is the quintessence of expressions.
If its happiness, you can feel it meander through everyone in the most viable way.
Her blur of anger leaves you like a child who pleads guilty yet is embarrassed enough to accept. And yet her expressions of love no matter how whispered they are and how hardly audible they may be, makes you crave with excitement and joy that bounds infinite…
Her quizzical application of the regular norm words segregates them from being normal and creates an imagination of the perfect setting of the moonlight, the winter and the musical silence.
Moonlights are fun. It not only twinkles on the gloomy, but also invigorates a sense of proximity that either me or she or thy who knows can imagine.
For a fact I can tell you she just blush her life out and wants to kill me this very second
Then all that shines is not gold is it?
A day of turmoil appears… my life is imbalanced by the change in the regular. I feel dejected ,I feel lost ,I feel nothing….
I look for a shoulder and I find none. I try to communicate for which I’m halted. Those seconds made me skip a heartbeat and made me realize how sophisticatedly weak I’m.
Expressions are overwhelming too. So overwhelming that mere quietness shouts at you with pain, anguish and releases in form of tears.
And I am not even gifted with moments of madness that could make things certain. I opt to sulk; to deem I am treated correct is my significant way of self punishment.
Then I hear she is sick. Something that I hate to relate to. I pray not for her change for me but for her to change to happiness because that’s her expression.
The happiness that twinkles in her eyes is beyond captivating.
She flicks a wide smile and laughs with so much clarity and carelessness that you feel spell bound and begin to question the balance of life. In a way that you don’t associate that life is varied with its significant share of happiness and sadness.
Because she eliminates sadness.
So I rely on hope and it relies on me. And it bears fruit. She communicates and opens me up. I thank God again that he levels us and administers in me her bond.
No matter how complicated it may be, the bond is my lifeline to peace and I hope to hers the expressions of happiness and joy.
So is it the moonlight which I cherish, or the whispers of love, I just want you to know that you shall be loved (thank you Marron5)
Curl up read this and express happiness because that signifies not your twinkle but my life.

Glow the Gloom Away

Sadness is a natural process. It is a part of life that is undeniable and is something that is mandatory to happen in every human life. But it shouldn’t be like that.

Some people just are not meant to be sad….

Some people are just to be manicured and pedicure with happiness even if it costs you insane.

When water shines in her eyes and she sniffs, the world looks a darker, griever place.

Sadness is not her forte even if it makes her look the tragic princesses which leave you heartbroken.

She pronounces fun and instills in you extravagance of flair and makes you feel worth it.

Her difference of perception is addictive.

A date for me now is no more a thought of serenity, sea and candle night. It’s fast paced, moving, comical and cute. You will be driven mad when you speak and she gazes outside smiling and being completely engrossed at absolutely nothing, and the very next moment you are swept away as she looks in to your eyes and has that quizzical look for which you can kill for.

And that leaves you addicted.

Her clichéd use of sentences is highly adorable. “I don’t know, Deal with it, and Shut up!” are the norms that makes you smile and make her blush.

I am obsessed by her presence in a very warm and way. She needs to be happy and lively for me to remain calm and soothing.

Am I getting too occupied with her? May be I am but is there any other better thing to do in this world. I guess not.

So sadness please hush away you are never welcomed on her door steps and even if you do come around I am on guard.

It is only a coat of varnish but it is all that completes the color.

Muffled Laughter

I always need inspiration to write, to create to do work, I’m a highly dependent person. I like to react rather than be proactive, that’s just how the world normalizes for me. Or I thought so…

I have an inspiration now…

An inspiration so true, so serene and so beautiful that I cannot help resist the presence, the aura that is circulating her.
Not many people are so gifted. She is amongst those very few. She can have you engaged to her for endless amount of hours and also have you short of breath from the aura she radiates. To say that I’m compelled and taken totally out of my comfort zone with her around is a total understatement.

My thought patterns are mostly immaculate and are in sync with logic. She has erupted all of this out of proportion.

I now feel like a child who’s aligned with fiction. Who gropes at things and associates them with fantasy. She mystifies situations. She smiles and gives happiness a total new meaning. The twinkling eyes remind me of the serene calm sea on which light suspends and shimmers playfully. She restores my believe in the fact that this world is a montage of excitement, happiness and love.

She pulsates on sensitivity. She thinks infinite and she loves pampering. She makes you feel indulged as champagne, she delights you and have you wanting for more. Her immaculate antics do not irritate you but have you worried. She taunts your thoughts which do not make you sad but have you thinking and adopting to her perceptions.
She is not a blonde and thank god for that.

Her intelligence permeates all through her and her grip of the moment leaves you dazed. She glows like the dawn breaking out of the mountains and have you dumbfounded.

For the last week she says I make her happy and make her forget her issues. To say I’m honored and flattered justifies my lack of vocabulary of the language.

She would be reading this and would be blushing as she meanders through this non coherent gathering of words.

And that just makes this vagueness shine.

I won’t be the Romeo to sing couplets to the Juliet. But to have her twinkling with muffled laughter is good enough to have this world smile.

So who is she? She is you who reads…

Imagine I Must!

I love to day-dream. I just love to imagine, reverie and sketch fiction.

For me, Clouds were always the “Kingdom of Ice” at war with the blazing “Empire of Fire”, the sun. A mountain was where “God lived” and a waterfall was His drink.

Imagination is such a powerful tool. It draws clarity from the bizarre. It gives you the power of infinity. It helps you to draw a rainbow out of one single color.

And now I realize that why I don’t attract people to me. It’s obvious! I’m horribly boring and illusory. I’m sure I am not far away for being dubbed as the lunatic-who-no-one knows.

Most of the times, it will not agitate me. I concur to that. I choose to be that way.

But now reality has sunk in. Somehow happiness is what I cannot imagine.

I’m giving in to lure and dependency. I feel desperate. I feel not me.

I need to imagine again, I need to re-invent my thoughts.

I still need to imagine mountains where “God lives”, not where she is flogged and he is slaughtered.

The Tramp

Charlie Chaplin would arguably be one of the finest actors that Hollywood is yet to produce.
His depiction of the Tramp is a work of a genius. He managed to make people laugh at themselves; he depicted us and made us realize how stupid the human race is. He danced, he tripped, he laughed, he cried, all his acts patronized us and made us laugh with all his tragedies. Life is such a contradiction. Your misery is my happiness; my struggle is your ease.
So Charles Chaplin did what are leaders are doing today. They make me laugh. They make me realize how stupid I am and how tragic they are.
Who said that you can’t laugh away at your wretchedness?
Enter: the Tramp.

WHAT IF?

I wonder if bullets could think. The limited lethal life they have, what if they knew the purpose of their existence, what if they knew what deed they are carrying out. Once they leave their homes (guns), would they know what are they bringing to an end? Or what they are about to start? What if they could interpret the thin line of being an accomplice to the righteous martyrs, or harboring terrorists?
It is a combustible life they have. They live to kill. As they pierce through a living soul, they damage the intended target by tissue or mechanical disruption through impact or penetration.
And this is just a part of the story.
They dysfunction a whole family. They bring an end to a process; they replace life, its joys with death, sadness and anger.
They just do not penetrate flesh, they penetrate life. They question Gods justice and proclaim evil.
What if they knew all of this? What would they do? Would they retreat? Would they seize what have they set out to do? Or what they act like us? Just breathe a sigh of relive and carry on?
Am I getting too desperate?
Maybe I am. I just cannot relate optimism to human beings. We architect are own disasters and then feast on our miseries.
We kill, we sympathize, we inquire, we blame and then… we kill again.
How do we categorize rationality? We ask God to help us kill His men! Which part of religion are we following? Who gave us the right to eliminate life processes?
Frankly I don’t see us changing.Maybe its time I go back to my desperate thinking… what if bullets could think?

Doosry Manzil (Sit Down Comedy)

This is Mirza Bilal.
The Bloke I organized "Sit Down Comedy" with somewhere in the middle of January.